Coming to Antarctica
by Captain Peregrine
Summary: Rodney arrives in Antarctica


"No, it's a specific gene tha' makes one able to use the Ancient technology." Carson Beckett explained in his handsome Scottish brogue. Elizabeth Weir, Radek Zelenka and Peter Grodin stood in a small semi-circle around the doctor. It had been four days since Elizabeth had last spoken with the prospective newest member of their growing team and while they waited for his arrival, Beckett attempted to explain to them why some of the Ancient technology on the base had worked for some and not for others.

"So General O'Neill has this… gene that allows him to activate Ancient technology?" Elizabeth asked. Beckett nodded.

"Exactly." He said.

"Are there any more people on the base with this gene?" Elizabeth asked.

"Uh…" Beckett suddenly got uncomfortable. "A few."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"Do _you_?" she asked. Beckett fidgeted uncomfortably.

"I… it would seem tha' way." He said slowly.

"Well—what can you activate?" Zelenka demanded, his own voice carrying a thick Czech accent. Peter, though he had not spoken, bore a soft British pronunciation.

"A few o' th' counsels." Beckett said uncomfortably.

"Can you activate the chair?" Elizabeth asked, her excitement building as Beckett's progressively waned. Beckett fidgeted.

"I 'aven't tried." He admitted. Elizabeth smiled, sensing his discomfort, and settled a hand on his arm. Her excitement would have to wait for when the doctor was a little more willing to push past his comfort level. But she was a patient woman.

"No one will force you to do it." Elizabeth assured him. Zelenka looked like he wanted to object, but he knew better. Carson smiled and nodded once. He seemed about to say something when a young man came running up to the small group.

"Dr. Weir," the young man huffed as he ran up to her, "the helicopter just landed. Dr. McKay's making his way down the shaft now."

"Thank you, Aidan." Elizabeth smiled. Lieutenant Aidan Ford bobbed his head and hurried off again. Elizabeth smiled again and excused herself to go and meet Rodney at the elevator.

Rodney leaned heavily against the gated wall. At least this elevator was open. He hated elevators in general—tiny aluminum boxes with only a few cables keeping it from crashing into the ground below. But this one was open. Open and airy and not at all close or closed in or dark or… or…

The man operating the elevator glanced at Rodney when he heard the doctor's breathing beginning to quicken. The man was leaning with his forehead pressed against the grating, his eyes closed and his breathing coming in short gasps.

"Are… are you okay, sir?" the man asked slowly. McKay's eyes snapped open and he glared over his shoulders at the man.

"I'm fine." He snapped. "Why don't you just concentrate on getting us to the bottom in one piece?"

The sergeant operating the descending box narrowed his eyes at the Canadian's blunt rudeness and determined not to speak to him again unless absolutely necessary. McKay knew this was for the best—the less he talked the less likely he would be to throw up.

Finally the elevator touched the ground, jerking to a stop. When the sergeant opened the gate leading out Rodney all but shoved him aside and leapt out of the damned moving box. His booted feet hit the ground and he nearly crashed into Elizabeth waiting for him just outside.

Pulling himself up short, he found himself looking her straight in the eye. Clearing his throat, McKay straightened and did his best to be calm and forced himself not to back up. Elizabeth, too, stood her ground though the doctor was hovering just inches away from her.

"Welcome, Dr. McKay, to the Ancient Outpost." She smiled. Rodney offered a quick twitch of the lips—she figured it was supposed to be a smile. Normally, with different people perhaps, she would have been offended by his lack of interest. But she noticed the pallor of his face and she had seen the way the poor man had all but leapt out of the elevator. Claustrophobia was not fun, she understood, and so would accept the man's lack of respect—for now.

"Seeing as this is your first day here," Elizabeth continued calmly, "I was going to show you around the base. We'll see where your strengths lie and maybe then I can figure out whom to team you with."

Rodney looked at her, his ocean blue eyes meeting hers of hazel-green.

"Team me up?" he asked her, the color returning to his cheeks. "Where my _strengths_ lie? Let me assure you, _Dr. Weir_, that I know almost everything about… almost everything." He laughed shortly—a laugh that would have caused anyone else to punch him in the jaw. "I could probably run this whole damn facility with my eyes closed at ten times the efficiency of anyone else you've got right now. I don't _need_ to be _teamed up_."

Elizabeth smiled calmly. She wondered if Rodney was trying to fluster her or if he honestly had no idea that he was this grating. In any event she still found him more amusing than annoying and so neither would bother her much at this point. It might bother some of her people, but for now they would just have to deal with it.

"We'll see about that." Elizabeth told him and Rodney's eyes narrowed slightly. He opened his mouth to snap something, but Elizabeth turned away before he had the chance. As she had hoped—and expected—the doctor was forced to hurry after her.

Rodney McKay wasn't used to this. Usually people responded to him… much differently. Usually people found him to be… what had Elizabeth said Sam had called him? Oh, right: an egotistical, petty, arrogant pain in the ass. Or something to that effect. In any event, that was how most people saw him and _most_ people responded fittingly. Whenever he got particularly snappish and short-tempered those around him generally grew equally snappish and short-tempered, responding in kind to his own mood. Often they took the defensive, lashing back at whatever comment he attacked with and dissolving any sort of team work that may or may not have developed. Usually Rodney never meant to do this for his attacks were meant to be defensive. But he had long ago, and quite unintentionally, turned his defense into an overt offense as a sort of over-protective wall to keep back whatever people had to throw at him.

_Most_ people responded this way, anyway. _Most_ people attacked the wall, trying to match McKay word for word, insult for insult.

Except for Elizabeth Weir. From the moment she had first spoken to him… hell, from the moment she had first walked into his office, she had responded differently. She hadn't attacked the wall—she had blatantly _ignored_ the wall. He could see it in the way she looked at him and in the way she spoke to him. Every tone of her voice, every movement and smile, said very clearly: _You are who you are, I am who I am and we are both just going to have to deal with that._ No attacks. No defenses. Just… nothing. Well, it was something but Rodney just didn't have a word for it yet. How could you have a word for something that you didn't understand? But whether or not he understood it he found himself gradually—and somewhat reluctantly—warming up to it. Rodney knew that for this woman to out and out ignore every front that he constructed she had to be incredibly patient, gentle, warm and exceptionally strong. And he found himself, even now, respecting that.

And he found himself paying attention to her. Most people—especially women—he simply ignored when they were giving him the "grand tour". If he had been left to his own devices he would have figured everything out for himself in the same amount of time and with less of the hassle. But somehow, with this Elizabeth Weir, he found himself hurrying to keep up and straining to hear what she was saying. He made no attempt—as he usually did—to hide any interest in a certain piece of equipment or something she had just said. He didn't know why she had this effect on him—why she was so different. But in a way it was a relief. It was hard work, really, to keep a wall that thick in place at all times of the day. It was somewhat terrifying how fast McKay let his defenses wane around Elizabeth. So far he knew her from half an hour of conversation in person and a few minutes over the phone. Nothing else before this second face-to-face meeting and yet he felt more comfortable with her than he had with his own damn family.

Well… he usually felt more comfortable with _anyone_ than he did with his own family.

McKay shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts.

"Is something wrong?" Elizabeth asked, seeing him shaking his head. McKay looked up in surprise, suddenly aware that his thoughts had trailed off. He almost smiled—that was more like it. That was a feeling he was comfortable with.

"What? Uh, no. No, I was just thinking. Sorry, what were you saying?"

Elizabeth smiled slightly—a tiny upturning of the corner of her lips and a crinkling around the corners of her eyes.

"Apparently nothing important." She sighed and McKay winced inwardly. The reaction surprised him—he barely knew this woman. "In any case, we're on our way to the infirmary anyway so I suppose I'll leave you with Carson."

"Who?"

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"I hope you don't make a habit of making me repeat myself, Dr. McKay." She said calmly. "Carson Beckett is our chief physician and you, as with all of the members of this team, need to see him for a physical."

McKay grimaced. He hated doctors.


End file.
